Long Time is of the essence Poems
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I am feeling fraught,
And, stupid too,
I don't know what to do.
I need to open a screw-top bottle,
Which I am about to throttle.
Bottle tops and lids on things
Also, those with tin pull rings.
Exasperate me.
I feel useless when I buy
Parcel that I can't untie
Tags that are too small to see
That should open the cling-wrapped purchases easily.
To button up a shirt or blouse
That used to take seconds
It could take hours.
Time is of the essence,
So it's said
Then there is another saying,
"You are a long time dead"
It must be my thinking that is askew.
As I furiously shake the bottle,
That I can't unscrew!
Trying to figure out where I went wrong
And why must I face this world all alone
There was a time I felt I belong
There was a time I had a home
Now the inner child is all grown
Just a lonely old man wonders along
Trying to remember where I belong
Trying to remember the way back home
Time is of the essence for it won't be long
I must leave this world for the unknown
Will you share the knowledge I have shown
For it's my destiny to let it be known
Long after I am dead and gone
Will you let my words live on
For all the years of feeling alone
For the love that I have shown
Fear and anger is all that I've known
Desperately yearning for a mind of my own
Maybe the next life is where I belong
Can you hear them calling me home
My soul is at peace but my mind it still roams
Looking for the love I once known
Will you hold my heart while I am gone
While I find a place I belong
While I find a place to call home
in the frail blue dusk,
that comes as prelude to dark,
there's a fragile lapse,
one period so oblique,
it's called neither night or day.
this brief moment comes
as if designed to be our
period of adjustment,
before darkness wraps its arms
and the daylight lets us go
there is grace and ease,
that punctuates the twilight,
pausing long enough,
so that we are given chance
to embrace what we can't see.
when last,... it's my time...
to walk in frail blue dusk
one last time, I pray
to have the same exquisite
period of adjustment
_____________________________________________________
Contest: "Time is of the Essence"
Resubmitted for P.D.'s contest: 100 In a Row #13
It's been a year
One miraculous story
Through 2020 God gets the glory
We seen a lot
We lost so much
We never lost God's touch
We needed him now more than ever
This year has taught me to get my self together
Time is of the essence
It's not promised
Why do people run from it
We are all on borrowed time
Get it right so you won't be left behind
This year was a lesson
This year was a blessing
Take everything
Stop stressing , be thankful , be grateful
Stop being miserable and hateful
It still violence
People voice out here
Still being silenced
The government wants control
We got to stay focused
Stay whole
Never forget who you are and whose you are
Look above the clouds
Go straight for the stars
Watch them twinkle
Make a wish
That the world get better than this
Put God first everything else next
Give your all your best
Think no less
We are were wonderfully made
By our Father
We are kings and queens
Someone sons and daughters
Keep smiling inspire of it getting harder
This year was a lesson
This year was a blessing
Take everything
Stop stressing , be thankful , be grateful
Stop being miserable and hateful
Hook :
It's been a year
We still here (yes)
It's been a year
We still here
This year was a lesson
This year was a blessing
Take everything
Stop stressing , be thankful , be grateful
Stop being miserable and hateful
Written by: Concetta Hardnett
12/22/2020
The Host
With Your Touch I Tremble,
You Smile and I Own the Moon.
Each Time Your Arms Enfold Me,
My Heart Sings a Lover's Tune.
The Love You Have for Me..
There Is Nothing That Compares
And Every Time I Need You...
You Are Always There.
Time Is of the Essence
And Each Day I Spend with You,
Lends Hope for Our Tomorrows
And I Think You Know this Too.
Forever Is a Long Time,
That's Something I've Always Known.
But since We Came Together,
In Forever...I Won't Be Alone.
So Come and Lay down next to Me
And Snuggle Real Close
We'll Always Be Together
And "Forever" Will Be Our Host.
Connie Moore
4 26 93
My thoughts burn me
Your passion within
Is a hollow furnace
My mouth of expression is shut
For your beauty stuns me
These thumb and finger, my
saviour
Or this pen, a messiah
I burn to the bones.
My sleep watches every night
At my awoken wide eyes.
What a mockery of repose!
I fear my strange emptiness
And time is of the essence.
I am stolen away
Far into your lost
My only compass, your heart.
Please, delay not
Kick start this love cart
For your heart I am aimed
Save me, I suffocate
From an intense killing feeling
Written you my heart
I am writing you again
Summed up in three words
Eight letters... I love you.
Ambition in its prime dwells within over time —poet
My special poet…
is one who gets their point across
without agendas or alliterations of a bitter boss
No need for perfect literates who sip on bitters
and pound out heartless ink to other bulls*itters
A black heart smells rotted and oldened by experience
with ordinary nothingness to relay for instance
Webbed tough with matured matted material
used over again, makes not a special poet’s verses imperial
My special poet…
does not grope for interpretation of what’s in the soul
Or use blackened words of mystery that serve to cajole
Or spits floundering anxiety pending
Nor is in one’s own tight confining skin
Nor a swollen head enabled by encouragement,
rigid and giving nothing back
Nor do they look askance from their egocentric self,
Outspoken words that hurt, sensitivity they lack
My special poet…
is one who gets the truth out
reporting issues of division and about
undecided poets who need to explore
not to shun away from what dangers implore
Expresses what’s needed to say
words you trust along the way,
to make what’s important aware
for those with no voice and in despair
We’re all a part of it, the crime and border
God is good, He wants you to know justice’s order
My special poet…
a girly-girl of a soft disposition natured
still rides along within, now matured
I have too much respect for poets
to call out bitter versed ones, we know it’s
not going to change anything or anyone
We are who we are bar none
Understanding the universe that comes first
Time is of the essence not disparaging the worst
When making a split discission
when it’s obvious surrealism,
there is no more discussing what is
special, sincere, sealed woe IT'S me
My special poet…
is not better just unique
It's not a prowess poet that I seek
It’s nice when real poet's genius peak
Cannot hit the ball out of the park every time
Yet it all maybe rendered sublime
We cannot alter our voices
This covers all poets of our choices
You’ll find poets who well articulate
though meanings may particulate
Every poet is special to somebody
and have one thing in common
including ME
The powerful palpitations pounding in my chest,
Will my heart with stand this test,
Another attack has just begun,
Abracadabra out it sprung.
Piercing pain constricting my chest,
My ribs collapsing, the attack conquering its quest,
Each breath harder, sharper, shallower than the next,
My fingers hastily clawing at my chests raw flesh.
Panic awakens my pale plain face,
Every gasp leaves a lingering lifeless taste,
Time is of the essence, prayers wont save me now,
The devils claws run deep and are dragging me down.
Awaiting me, a fiery hell of tortured terror,
My lungs burn is my soul to be condemned forever,
Just one deep breath to save my soul hear me saviour,
I beg of you I am not ready to meet my maker.
Finally the attack releases my air way,
The fatal fear and fantasies begin to fade away,
I have survived another panic attack today.
Ministry Of Monsters
As you sit down to work at dungeon desk
A writer with the best intentions
Time is of the essence in the dark
Fear is like dipping the quill into black ink
And coming up with blue primordial goo upon the tip
A wet repulsive glob, sliding along the feather
Makes its way to you in moonless dread
Reaches for your very soul and heart of reason
Grasping at your fingers then slithers around your neck
Into the ear the creature creeps, where you now hear the fear as well
No longer in the ink well but seeping there within your skin
Dripping, bleeding, feeding in your skull
A gelatinous marvel of demons, monsters, and crimes
This helps you clear your mind to write
You work at the Ministry of Monsters
So everything is fine
Have a pleasant night
Created on 10/07/14 for Monsters and Marvels- Poetry contest
Someday
Reminders of what once was is all you'll have
As life keeps looking forward you'll look back
Wondering where the time has gone
Wishing you had more
Is heartache the final price we pay
For sin keeping the score
Reality won't care if you don't face it
Cause eventually it still comes along
Forgiveness seems to be the only answer
And the only way to really right a wrong
When's the last time
That you told those you love how much they mean
If only our tomorrows could be foreseen
We'd look at all the days we have
In a very different light
Remembering the happiness
While never losing sight
Reality won't care if you don't face it
Cause eventually it still comes along
Forgiveness seems to be the only answer
And the only way to really right a wrong
Lessons
The ones that we all seem to learn in time
Are the same ones that will haunt us in our minds
It's a lonely road that never ends
When you reap what you've sewn
Taking all the memories of
The ones He's called back home
Reality won't care if you don't face it
Cause eventually it still comes along
Forgiveness seems to be the only answer
And the only way to really right a wrong
Memories
Will soon come to replace a smiling face
Of one with whom you've shared a warm embrace
They'll be with you through all your years
And follow where you go
While the questions keep on coming
It's the heart the fails to grow
Reality won't care if you don't face it
Cause no matter what it still comes along
Forgiveness seems to be the only answer
And the only way to really right a wrong
So remember
Time is of the essence
In the time we have to share
Someday there'll be sorrow
And reminders everywhere
Someday there'll be sorrow
And reminders everywhere